


Precipice

by cruisedirector



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Embarrassment, F/M, Hair Kink, New Earth, Oral Sex, Past Relationship(s), Romance, Secrets, Talking, Watersports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-01-31
Updated: 2001-01-31
Packaged: 2017-10-06 21:38:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/58011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cruisedirector/pseuds/cruisedirector
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chakotay wonders what makes Janeway uptight here where no one can see them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Precipice

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mamadracula](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mamadracula/gifts).



> I wrote this in 1997 for mamadracula. Dedicated with love to Brannon Braga.

On the fifth day they didn't make love when they woke up.

It wasn't that anything felt wrong to him -- but she was holding back, and he wasn't sure why. He'd always figured that getting her to admit that she loved him would be the big hurdle, and the sex would follow naturally. She was affectionate and approachable, spontaneous, receptive to most of his suggestions. Though she did have a habit of asking him where he'd picked up various desires, which surprised him -- he couldn't help feeling that he was still being judged by a starship captain, even if she was also his lover.

After breakfast he followed her down to the river. She swam, usually nude, and he enjoyed lying in the sun to watch. This day -- without the edge taken off his desire -- he got a hard-on just from watching her undress, and she waltzed around a little to tease him before coming over to sit with him on the bank.

He supported her weight with her hips in his hands as he slid his body underneath her, sitting up to lower her into his lap, his erection pressed between them. Her look was a little sheepish, a little saucy. She pressed a finger against the tip of his cock, where a drop of fluid sat suspended in the cleft, then lifted her hand to her mouth and licked it off with a grin.

"What's your pleasure?" she asked. Her tongue flicked the corner of her lips for emphasis.

"Kiss me, for starters." He leered at her, tongue in cheek.

She kissed him, opening his mouth while he caught one of her breasts in a hand and rubbed the nipple between two fingers, until she moaned and rose up on her knees, rubbing his cock between her thighs and against her clit. "Want me to sit this one out?" she whispered singsong in his ear, hovering just above him, then changed her tone very suddenly to a low growl: "Or want to me to suck you off?" He didn't suppress his grunt of anticipation. She shifted her weight off his thighs and leaned over to take him into her mouth, sliding a hand underneath to cup his balls. She didn't seem to be trying to show off exactly, but her movements were very goal-oriented, with little teasing or exploration. Too fast, he thought wryly as he started to flex his toes in the sand.

"Kathryn."

"Hmm?"

"Soon," he warned her, but she didn't relent, and that made him reckless. "I want to feel you swallowing my come."

He hated the sound of the crudeness of the plea, but she chuckled, sending vibrations through him that drove him right to the edge. "Stop now if you -- " he gasped, yet she didn't, rubbing with her hands and leaving her lips right where they were. He wanted to feel her skin under his hands, and her thighs were too far away -- he put his hands on her shoulders, though he was afraid she would think he was trying to shove her down. It happened quickly. His howl echoed down the river as he spurted. She let some of the come flow out of her mouth and back down his cock, wiping it off his balls.

"Kiss me some more," he said with his eyes still closed afterwards.

"My mouth still tastes like -- you know." He could hear the face she was making in her voice.

"Doesn't bother me. Does it bother you?"

"No..." He opened his eyes to look at her flushed cheeks. "Will most -- do most of the women you've been with swallow it?"

"I've never paid attention. I've always been a little distracted right at that moment." He reached out a finger to trace her lips. "I'm sorry I asked..."

"Oh, that doesn't bother me. I just wondered." He leaned over to kiss her lightly, then remembered what had started the conversation.

"How come you thought I wouldn't want you to kiss me?"

"It would have bothered Mark. He would never let me kiss him right afterwards."

"The other men you've been with?"

"Same. There were only two. Well, only two I did that with, anyway. I'm sure you must have a lot more..."

"Not the way you seem to think." He let his eyes roam appreciatively over her hair and down her figure. "So, is it my turn to..."

"Let's go swimming first. I'm covered with sand."

She rose and glanced toward the water, and he wondered whether he'd said something wrong. But she was playful in the river, teasing him and letting him put his hands all over her even though the cool water diminished her natural lubrication. He taunted her nipples and she fed him water directly from her mouth as they made lazy circles, never swimming deep enough for their feet to lose the bottom.

For a long time afterwards they sat, watching the light on the river, and tickling one another occasionally. Her body felt at ease in the afternoon sun. He let his head rest on her shoulder as he embraced her from behind, enjoying the feel of skin against skin, thinking that her sweat smelled good and he could drown in her hair. He didn't want to move when the sand started to grate against his naked bottom, and his legs began to cramp from supporting her weight. She was the one who finally shifted, muscles bunching across her upper back.

"Let me up."

"Where're you going?"

"I have to pee."

"Go ahead."

"I can't get up unless you move your legs."

He smiled into her skin. Probably if he hadn't been so relaxed in the sun, he would just have let her get up, but his limbs were heavy and the warmth had seeped into his brain, making him sleepy and aroused at the same time. "I mean, go ahead."

"Right here?"

"Mmm hmm. Nobody's going to see."

"Except you, you mean." The humor in her voice had an edge to it.

"I can't watch from this angle." He lifted his head slightly off her shoulder; he wouldn't be able to see the source, but he'd have a good view of the stream between her legs, running down the slope towards the water. His cock came alive at the mental picture, and twitched against her rear.

"Uh-huh," she said deliberately, not moving away from him, but the contact had changed; it was as if an invisible energy barrier had sprung up between them.

He felt her back shift under his face and arm, tensing. She made no move to leave, but neither did she say anything for several minutes as he gently rubbed her arms up and down, in the same rhythm he would have used on his cock if he dared. If he kept her trapped there, held her still with his arms and legs for long enough, it would leave her no choice... His excitement built to a perverse intensity. Of course, he wouldn't force her to do that, and she knew it, which was why she wasn't struggling to get up. Yet he knew she could feel his heart pounding against her, and his erection prodding into her. Which meant that she knew what he was imagining. He was embarrassed by his urges and a little frightened at her edginess. If she'd laughed him off, it would have been fine. Her unease, though, was unsettling -- was always unsettling -- it felt like a lack of comfort with him, not just with his suggestion of any given moment. Like something was wrong, even if he didn't know what yet.

She asked finally, "Does thinking about that always turn you on?"

"I don't know. I've never really thought about it." She burrowed a toe into the ground as he tried to laugh it off. "Piss itself doesn't turn me on. I've never asked anyone if I could watch before."

"Do you like restraining me like this?"

"It's not restraining you." He had to bury his head in her shoulder because he wasn't all that sure of the truth of that statement, and she wasn't fooled. "It's the idea that you'd have to do it right in front of me."

"Oh, you want to watch me embarrass myself."

"Why would you be embarrassed? We all do it." His tone was neutral, but her voice darkened with something akin to suspicion.

"Not on display."

"I just want to watch you give up control. Because I think of you as a very in-control person. It's sexy."

She snorted. "I should be flattered?"

"Yes. I don't tell my kinky fantasies to just anyone." He felt her twist to look at him, but she still wasn't trying to escape from his arms and legs. Her expression was wary. "Tell me one of yours."

"My kinky fantasies?" She opened her mouth, closed it again, and looked past him, shrugging. "Mine are so...dull, by comparison. All right, have it your way. You go first."

"Go first?"

"I mean, tell me one of your kinky fantasies." She must have realized what he'd thought she meant for a second, because she blushed so hard he felt the heat come into her neck, and her body shifted, pressing her thighs together -- whether from excitement or urgency, he couldn't have said.

He thought about what he could tell her which she'd consider intimate enough to be considered a confession, yet not threatening. "Just a fantasy, right? Not things I necessarily want to try in real life?"

"Yes." A hard rasp. She nodded, to make sure he'd get the point. "Maybe we shouldn't..."

"Don't do that. Don't clam up on me. I won't ask you to try anything." They sat quietly for a stretch, until she jiggled slightly as if she couldn't stand it anymore. Before she could decide to get up, he said, "I've always wanted to come in your hair."

"What?"

"I have a recurring fantasy about wrapping your hair around my cock and jacking off. Maybe after tying your arms up with your turtleneck." She began to giggle nervously. "It goes back for months, to when we were on the ship. It's just the hair, not because I want to humiliate you or anything like that -- I think it's because of that damn bun..."

"Oh god." The giggles had a hysterical edge, a slight shriek to them. "Have you ever done that to anyone?"

"Of course not!" He didn't even have to fake the shock. "Even if I thought about it, I'd never have told anyone else."

"Well, you do seem to have a thing for women with long hair."

"You seem to have a thing for worrying about my past."

He had been trying to suggest that the people in his past didn't matter, but the words had the opposite effect; she jerked sharply in his arms and almost disengaged herself. "I'm sorry," he told her quickly, wrapping her more tightly in his embrace, then letting go so that she could rise if she wanted to without having to ask again. "It's just not me. I'm not comparing you to anyone else. What's this about, Kathryn?"

She was quiet, still, and suddenly she seemed much younger -- less a starship captain with principles to uphold than an uncertain partner in a new relationship. He realized guiltily that he'd been assuming what hangups she had stemmed from some prudish moral code she was trying to impose on him, rather than her own insecurities. It was hard for him to think of her as insecure about anything.

"I wish you'd tell me whatever it is you're afraid to tell me."

She took a deep breath. "Chakotay..."

"What?"

"Do you think sometime instead of talking so much, you could tell me you can't help yourself, and just _do_ it? You know -- just fuck my brains out?"

By the time he had stopped laughing, she was squirming in his arms, crossing and recrossing her legs so she could sit on her foot. "I wish you knew how much I love you." He rested his face against her neck, breathing her in, and felt her go soft in his arms for the first time since the conversation started. "I'd do anything for you."

"Well, then." His erection was burning; she wiggled against it, or perhaps she wiggled out of desperation. Then she took his hand in hers and pulled it around and downward, between her legs. She felt aroused and ready, her lower lips swollen and slick. He probed for a moment, then jolted in surprise as hot fluid sprayed into his palm. The trickle became a steady stream, spilling between his fingers onto the ground as he loosely cupped her pelvis. From the corner of his eye he could still see her face, an uncertain half-smile of relief and guilty pleasure, then he had to shut his eyes to concentrate on not exploding all over her back.

"It's hard to let it out with your hand there," she whispered.

"Sorry." Not in the least, really, but he said it automatically. She laughed at his insincerity.

"How come that turns you on?"

"I guess the intimacy of it."

She scooted forward a tiny bit, tilting her head back until her hair draped into his lap. He realized that it was an offering. "Oh," he managed to say. That was the only syllable he could get out. Careful not to pull, he clutched a handful around his penis. He could see her trying not to laugh as he shoved himself into her hair, jerking his cock so hard that she gasped in surprise a couple of times. It took him only a minute or so to go off, shouting with pleasure, his other hand clutching her shoulder, holding her to him.

When he could breathe again, she smiled, flipped the sticky hair over her shoulder, then leaned over to kiss him. He moved a hand to her breast, felt her tremble and stiffen.

"Your turn."

"My turn what?"

"Come sit on my face."

"I might suffocate you."

"You won't." His fingers were already stroking the swollen, wet opening. "Come on. Otherwise I'll just have to push you down and do it myself, and you're going to get sand in your ass."

She watched him lie down on his back and let him guide her hips over his torso, but when he paused to look up at the flushed folds of skin between her thighs, glistening in the shadows created by her body and matted with dark, damp hair, she started to squirm. His hands curved around her buttocks to lower her to him, tongue flicking to tease her clit. She rotated her hips slightly, then with increasing tempo, until he caught on and started using a more circular motion with his tongue. He felt her fingers in her hair, stroking and tracing his ears before she gripped and began to ride, dictating what she wanted with her body.

She took a long time, but when she finally came it was a beauty, her labia contracting on his mouth as if she were kissing him while her feet shifted and scraped around his arms. When he managed to get a good look, her chest was flushed from sun and sex and her nipples were also rosy, erect, lifted upward by the arch of her body as she let her head fall back. He moved slowly out from under her, keeping contact with her drooping form as she relaxed. Folding an arm over her, he wrapped her in his lap with his feet on her thighs, arms folded across her chest with her hands resting on his biceps.

"I love you," she said.

"But do you trust me?"

"Yes. Don't you trust me?"

"You know I do. No more tests, okay? Just tell me what you want."

"You too."

"I love you. But you knew that, didn't you?"

She returned his grin, and they lay down together in the late afternoon light, which colored everything it touched with a rosy glow.


End file.
